


Castles In The Air

by RedScarfedSoldier



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 21:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2887862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedScarfedSoldier/pseuds/RedScarfedSoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams and wishes are irrational in a world where you're constantly a step away from death's door, but even the strongest are not immune to slipping into fantasies. With each other, they can dream, so long as they return back to reality at sunrise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castles In The Air

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse my failed attempts at writing again for the first time in many moons. This is heavily inspired by my interpretation of the Call Your Name line, "We dreamt a new house/life, some place to be at peace."

The world is a cruel, relentless place— and any realistic person knew their last moment, their last breath, could be just around the corner. As people born into this world, realistic they were bound to be, and as people with such realistic sentiments, daydreams were irrational. Despite this, there were times it was okay to dream, if only entertain fantasies of dreaming. The two known to be humanity’s strongest knew this best. They found refuge in each other— each other was where they both knew their secrets and their dreams, sometimes nearer to wistful wishes, would be safe. When they surrender to the sheets after another hard day, sometimes they lie in silence; the warmth of each other’s arms and the faint beating of each other’s hearts enough to lull them into a ephemeral slumber. Sometimes, thoughts keep them awake. Sometimes, these thoughts are negative— images of their comrades, broken and bloody before them, the loss of another friend, another family member— but sometimes, these thoughts are dreams.   
  
Neither of them know when this turned into a routine. When she began her nightly visits to his quarters, or when they decided they had a mutual need to feel each other’s warmth as they drifted off to sleep. When he began waiting for her, greeting her with a softer, more sedate expression than he puts on throughout the day. On certain nights, it isn’t uncommon for them to not speak a word, to embrace each other in silence, desperate to try and numb the other’s pain— but tonight wasn’t like that. They had made significant progress on a new tactic, one meant to improve the strength of the corps as a whole and set them closer in-line to victory. Tonight, their thoughts would be dreams. 

When he finishes locking the door, she’s already at his drawers, replacing the shirt on her body with one of his own. She never sleeps in hers, and he’s long past the point of questioning it. He watches her, as he climbs into bed, resting himself against the headboard. She joins him seconds after, positioning her body between his knees, and resting her head back onto his chest. Levi wraps his arms around her, taking her hand in his own, and she lets her eyes fall shut as their fingers gently interlock, and he places a chaste kiss to the back of her ear. 

There is the sweet sound of quiet for a few moments, for they were never two to need much more; but questions and spoken thoughts near always break their silence, in the one place they feel safe to let their wanderlust minds roam. “Sometimes, I wonder if there really is a chance we might survive this.” she admits, sinking closer into him— his scent enveloping her in a fragile blanket of security. He contemplates the most suitable response. It would be a lie for him to say the same question has never crossed his mind, but he’s lost too much hope to believe in such a fairytale ending.  “Maybe.” he replies, voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to deprive her of hope, unwilling to– for he wishes he still had some. “If we did, what would you do?” Her question was to be expected, but even then, he had no way of knowing when she would ask. He takes a moment to answer; unsure of how to say it, if he should say it, and she almost wonders if he’s fallen asleep. It’s when she begins to turn around to see if he has that he grips her hand a little tighter, “I’d want to marry you, Mikasa.” She feels her lips part slightly, but no words come out. Running her thumb along the back of his hand, she draws in a slow, shaky breath, and she whispers, “I’d want to marry you, too.” 

His heartbeat settles, and his hold on her eases, back into the tender touch they’ve grown accustomed to, an opposite to the inexorable force they use on their enemies. “It would be nice to have a family again… A home, too.” Levi catches a faint glisten in her eye, hopelessness or hopefulness, perhaps a mix of both. “If we survive this, I’ll try my damndest to give you that,” she tilts her head to face him, and he leans forward slightly to kiss her forehead, “I promise.” A slight smile spreads across her lips, and neither of them know if they are truly happy, or simply trying to be. She settles her head back onto his chest and sighs. “What would you really want to do? For yourself, I mean.” She wonders if he would stay with the corps, if they would still exist— surely there would be land to explore. Would he want to explore the world like Eren and Armin, or would he be happy staying with her? “I might want to open a tea shop…” She lets out a small laugh, and though he cherishes the rare sound, he still glares at her in displeasure. “It suits you.” she assures as her laughter fades to a smile of contentment.

The sound of their breathing, their heartbeats, and the faint whistling of the cold night’s wind soon become the only things to fill the silence. Mikasa lets out a quiet yawn as her mind begins to rest, and Levi notices as she begins to grow increasingly drowsy. He shifts a bit, letting her lie down on the pillow, and snuggling in close beside her. “You should get some rest.” She’s about to protest before she yawns again. She nods, reaching for his hand amongst the sheets. He moves his spare hand to brush a stand of hair out of her face, and as she closes her eyes, she hears him whisper, “Goodnight, Mikasa. Sweet dreams.” 


End file.
